


Brentrick Drabbles

by herprettysleeper



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: But it all ends in softness, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, So yeah
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2018-02-19
Packaged: 2019-01-07 21:36:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12241074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/herprettysleeper/pseuds/herprettysleeper
Summary: This whole thing is just Brendon and Patrick being soft dorks. These were originally posted on Tumblr, I'm just crossposting. From now on I'll be posting on both sites.





	1. “Let me drive.”

“Let me drive,” Patrick says softly.

Brendon rubs the sleep out of his eyes with the back of a hand. “I don’t know where to pull over.”

“There’s an exit in half a mile.”

Brendon nods and takes, pulls into the small parking lot of the closest gas station. He shifts into shotgun while Patrick steps out and gets into the driver’s seat. Brendon leans his head against the window, and murmurs, “You’re too good to me.”

“You are to me, too.”

Brendon smiles faintly, eyes still closed. As Patrick gets back on the highway, Brendon’s breaths even out, until sleep pull him under. Patrick smiles at his boyfriend’s slumbering form and presses a kiss to his temple and returns to focusing on the road.


	2. “It looks good on you.”

Patrick comes out of the dressing room, picking at the cuffs of the new sweater. “I don’t know. I like it, I think…I’m not sure.”

Brendon tilts his head to the side, pretending to consider. “It looks good on you.”

Patrick rolls his eyes. “You say that about everything I pick.”

“It’s because everything looks good on you.” Brendon shrugs. “It’s not my fault you’re gorgeous.”

Patrick blushes, runs a hand through his hair, murmurs, “I think I’ll buy the sweater.”

Brendon smiles and they head to the check-out.


	3. “Astrology’s crap.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is their first kiss scene! These drabbles are generally chronological, but not always.

“What does your horoscope say today?” Patrick asks.

“Astrology’s crap,” Brendon replies.

Patrick makes a scandalized sound, his attention removed from his cup of coffee. “You don’t know that.”

“As if the alignment of the planets is gonna predict my future.”

“You don’t know that it can’t.”

“What does yours say today?”

Patrick searches it, reads, “You will be brave and daring today. You will do the one thing you’re afraid of.”

“See?” Brendon says. “Today’s an off day. And unless we’re randomly skydiving—”

Patrick stands up, leans over the table, and kisses Brendon.

Brendon’s surprised at first, but he relaxes into the kiss, his fingers gently stroking the hair at the nape of Patrick’s neck.

Patrick pulls back, seats himself. He takes a sip of his coffee, hand slightly unsteady. “Astrology’s crap, huh.”

“Totally,” Brendon says, still dazed.


	4. “Happy birthday.”

“Do I even wanna know what you did?”

“ _Shh,_ ” Brendon says. He’s smiling as his hands cover Patrick’s eyes.

“I hate you so much.”

“I love you too.”

Patrick grumbles, though the frustration is fake.

“Pat, could you reach forward and open the door?”

“Uh, yeah, sure,” he says, palming around on the door until he finds the doorknob, and opening it. Brendon leads him a few steps into the apartment, and removes his hands from over Patrick’s eyes.

Patrick does a little gasp at the room. It’s candlelit, and their little dining table is set up to look like a romantic dinner.

“Happy birthday,” Brendon says softly.

Patrick kisses him, and Brendon feels right at home.


	5. “I can’t write.”

Patrick can tell Brendon’s upset from the moment he steps into the apartment.

Brendon doesn’t slam the door, but he’s practically vibrating. Patrick looks at him worriedly. “Hey, Bren. Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” He’s shaking his head, though. He runs his hand over his face. “I’m fine, it’s okay.”

He’s lying. Patrick doesn’t push it.

Brendon comes to sit down next to him on the couch, and he’s not visibly angry anymore, but now his shoulders are slumped, and his breathing is heavier than normal.

Patrick places his hand over Brendon’s. “You can tell me what’s going on.”

Brendon looks about ready to deny everything, but Patrick can see his resolve break. “It was a bad day at the studio, that’s all, and I—I couldn’t get anything done. I can’t write lately, it’s not…” Brendon looks up at Patrick, and Patrick understands.

“It’ll be okay,” Patrick promises. “You can have a bad day, or a bad week. You’ll get there.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Trust me?”

Brendon sighs. “Yeah.”

They cuddle together on the couch, and Patrick places a kiss against Brendon’s temple.


	6. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

“I don’t know if I can do this,” Patrick says.

They’re both standing outside the car, and it’s overcast outside, as if a storm is about to start. Brendon thinks matches Patrick’s mood far too much.

“Yes, you can.”

Patrick starts worrying his lip, so Brendon takes both of his hands. Patrick exhales and leans towards him, and their foreheads press together for a moment.

Their outside of a building where a radio station resides for another Soul Punk interview.  Brendon knows that there’s been too many similar terrible experiences, too many people forcing Patrick to talk about the past.

“Listen. When it’s over, we can totally go out to Brusters.”

“You can’t bribe me with ice cream,” Patrick says, though he’s starting to smile.

“You’re sure about that?”

“ _Fine._ I don’t like you.”

“Love you too.”

Patrick laughs a little and starts to walk away, before he starts back, gets on his toes and kisses Brendon. “See you in a bit.”

Brendon smiles. “See you.”

~*~

Thirty minutes later, Patrick’s back. He gets into the car. “You’re getting me ice cream.”

“It didn’t go well?”

“No, it was fine, actually!” Patrick beams. “But I still want ice cream. With you. Just because.”

Brendon laughs. “Okay, let’s go.”


	7. “Happy to help.”

They’re walking outside, snow falling at their feet, compacting under their boots. Patrick’s wearing a long-sleeved shirt and he keeps running his hands up and down his arms, over and over again.

They went out to get food and it started snowing halfway through, and now they’re heading home and the air is icy, and Patrick is shivering.

Brendon takes off the jacket he’s wearing. Patrick looks up at him, and Brendon says, “May I?”

Patrick exhales a laugh, a little huff. “Yes, please,” he says, and Brendon holds up the jacket as Patrick slips his arms through it. Brendon pulls up the zipper. He stops shivering, and bumps into Brendon lightly, says softly, “Thank you.”

Brendon smiles–as long as Pat’s happy. “Happy to help.”


End file.
